Slow but SuddenPapa passed away a few weeks ago. It wasn't an unexpected passing. But who is prepared for the death of a loved one, right?

Both of his kidneys failed two years ago and he has been going through dialysis until his death.

Death. I'm surprised I can type that word and not break down.

Do I have any regrets? A few.Like I could've spent more time with him.I could've let him into my world, my life so we both understood each other.He may have never approved some of the life choices I've made but if only I was able to spend more time with him, we'd come into an understanding of sorts.

But that never happened. Sure, there were the yearly visits, phone calls and Facetime sessions, but I feel like I haven't done enough.

I could have done more. I could have been there for him. But unfortunately, you only realize these things when it's too late.

ChangeThat's why I have decided to move to Davao, where my Mama is.

I don't know what i'll be doing there. Maybe find a job. Or go back to school and finally finish that degree. Or maybe even set up a business.

What I know is that I want to spend more time with Mama before it's too late.Before the time comes that she would not be able to recognize the man that I have become.

I want her in my life again. And I want to be a part of hers. This time, as equals.Two adults rekindling a relationship that has been tainted by time, misunderstanding and distance.

Cautiously OptimisticI am uprooting myself from my comfort zone. I don't have any friends in Davao. I don't know what's in store but that's part of the change that excites me.

There's a lot of potential.

And in the end, if the only thing I am able to accomplish is to be by Mama's side, I am fulfilled.

And I thought I have moved on.
Apparently, this moving on thing is a very organic process for me. Translation: really slow.

Last year when an opportunity to start fresh came my way, my former manager and supervisor threatened me with a lawsuit. Citing a clause in my contract that would forbid me to take that opportunity. I got scared. Turned down the offer and stayed.

A year after, I got another opportunity to leave. I took it. But my former company would not want me to get that opportunity. But this time, I thought myself brave, so I moved forward.

I still remember how it happened, my leaving:
Since I would be working for the same program but in another company, I made it a point to be open, honest and direct with the people who supervised me. I told them my plans. That my decision has no malice. I do not intend to bring anyone down. I was taking this opportunity because I no longer see myself growing with the organization. So I left. They still threatened me with a lawsuit though.

I was about to start working again when I got a call that my job offer would be retracted because of two things: the clause in my previous contract and the program director reached out to my would-be boss effectively blocking my employment.

I was devastated. I never knew that their fear would be their ultimate weapon against me.

What they did to me broke me. I am broken. I thought that not thinking about it would make this feeling go away. But it still lingers. It’s still here.

Now a lot of people believe that I am better than this. And I appreciate that. But right now, I don’t see myself as anything but broken.

I will pick up the pieces and start again. I know that. There’s nothing to do but move forward.

On my first day at the gym, my ultimate goal was not to die. So these were the things that were running through my head while I was making my way through the unexplored (in my case) territory called “the gym”:

I seriously hope I don’t die today.

The gym’s on the 3rd floor? I’ll take the stairs then. I’ll consider that as a warmup.

Oh good, the place is not packed.

Where’s the locker room?

Wrong hallway, God, did I just try to go to the women’s locker room?

Okay, found the men’s locker room, no people, that’s a good sign.

So this is what a gym treadmill looks like. So many buttons! Do I need a college degree to operate this thing?

Two minutes in, I think I can get used to this. Do peolple die on treadmills?

Stretching time! Wait, you want me to do squats? Sure i’ll do squats. How many?

Can we stop doing squats now? Can’t feel my legs!!!

Oh Lorde, more squats!

Oh good, we’re moving on to a machine. What is this thing called and how would it torture me?

What do you mean “chest out”?

These things are heavy!

My heart can’t beat any faster. Is this the onset of a heart attack?

Another machine. For legs. This one’s better. At least I get to sit down.

Whoa, almost fell there. Dear legs, don’t give up on me yet.

Water, I need water. Every cell in my body is screaming for water.

Wait, more squats?!?

Another machine. Leg curls. These things look like they could kill me.

Why do others make this look so easy? Like the guy i’m next to. Was he born ripped?

Don’t they have a “beginners'” area? I mean it’s my first day for crying out loud.